Love Express
by frostygossamer
Summary: Today Dean was finally moving to Palo Alto to live with the gorgeous gay millionaire he met on the bus, or was he? A sequel to 'Love Etc.' AU, unrelated Sam/Dean. (Rating now a mild M) COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Today Dean was finally moving to Palo Alto to live with the gorgeous gay millionaire he met on the bus, or was he? A sequel to 'Love Etc.' AU, unrelated Sam/Dean.

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A/N: Following the events of 'Love Etc.', Sam arranged to return to his position at Stanford and take his new boyfriend, Dean, along to live with him. They were planning to go today. All Sam had to do was pick Dean up at his old apartment. We begin with Dean's POV.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.

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Love Express (Chapter 1) by frostygossamer

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Dean was sitting on the front steps of his apartment building. Actually it was his former apartment building, since he had settled up till the end of the month and packed all his crap. He was now waiting patiently for Sam to arrive in his SUV to pick him up and drive them both to a 'new life' in California.

The pile of bundles and packages at his feet were surprisingly few, considering they contained almost every possession he had accumulated in the year he had lived there, plus the almost four years he had lived with his ex, Jo. And then there was that solitary box that held the sum total of his dad John's life, mostly mementoes of the ex-marine's service days and of his short but passionate marriage to Dean's sainted mother. That one box followed Dean everywhere, naturally.

Sometime in the next few minutes Sam would be arriving with a two-wheeler trailer hitched to his SUV for Dean's junk. Sam's had been sent on ahead already. Then they would be driving right across the country to Palo Alto, where they were going to live, together, as a couple.

A gay freakin' couple. Dean shivered. He was trying bravely to fight down a wave of panic. Was he doing the right thing? Was the gay lifestyle really for him? Would he adapt to something so alien to his macho values, the values drummed into him his whole life by his dad? Did he really WANT this?

"C'mon, Sam. What's keepin' ya, man?" he hissed under his breath. The big dope had better get there soon or Dean was going to lose his nerve.

As if it knew, right at that moment his cellphone rang.

Dean fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the display. It was Luis, his former boss as the repair shop. Dean sighed. Luis and Julio, his fellow mechanic, were both good guys, but they were also both old-fashioned, red-blooded Latino 'hombres'. Dean had heard enough casual homophobia from the two, and even joined in enough, to not relish ending up the subject of one of their thoughtlessly crass jokes. They didn't mean anything by it, Dean knew, and he had been just as bad with the caveman-talk, but just the same...

Dean would never be ready to let Luis and Julio find out about Sam. The last couple months Sam had had to give him a ride to work every morning, because he wouldn't ride the bus after he found out the regular passengers had all guessed about the two of them. But he had insisted Sam drop him half a block from the garage. He just couldn't have his hairy-assed co-workers guess Sam was his boyfriend. Such a freakin' dumb word anyways, 'boyfriend'. 'Lover' was a much less stupid term.

Dean accepted the call. "Hey, Lu."

"Hola, Dean," Luis' voice was cheery. "Don't worry it's good news. Been reckoning up last month's tips and it looks like I owe you like another 53 dollars of your share. You wanna gimme a forwarding address so I can send it on to you?"

Dean hesitated. Did he want to give this guy his address in California? The address he would be sharing with a certain Mr. Sam Winchester? A.k.a. his gay lover? He thought not.

"Well, uh," he began uncertainly. "You want my new address?" He decided to play dumb. "Not exactly sure of my actual address till I get there, Lu," he lied. "May take me a while to find me a place."

Luis snorted at his end of the line. "OK. So whaddo I do with your cash, pal? Ain't ya gonna need it out there?"

Need it? Yeah, well maybe not so long ago Dean would have done almost anything for a few extra dollars, just to pay off the interest on his loans. But now? Now when he was moving in with a guy who owned a successful quoted tech company? Not that he would EVER want to sponge off of Sam but...

"Ya know what, Lu," he said decisively. "Why don't you let Julio keep the lot. Tell him to buy something nice for his girl, huh?"

Luis snorted again. "You sure 'bout that? Don't you always tell me your dinero's kinda tight?"

Dean smiled ironically to himself. "Don't reckon money's my biggest worry right now, Lu," he answered.

"OK. Suit yourself, amigo," Luis agreed, and he terminated the call.

It felt kind of good to throw away good money that way, not something he had ever made a habit of in the past. It was like lighting your cigar with a new bill. Dean snickered to himself, and he was about to put his cell back in his pocket when he remembered something.

One missed call.

~X~

Dean glanced down the street. Still no sign of freakin' Sam. Where in the hell had the guy gotten himself to? Dean sighed. Last night he had ignored a call from Jo. He had told himself he would get back to her.

Now Dean really did want to tell Jo that he was moving to California, not just vanish like some deadbeat wraith, but he really didn't want to answer any awkward questions. Jo didn't deserve any more lies, she had gotten enough of them from him while they were together, but would she be understanding if he dished up the truth?

Before he could overthink any more, Dean jabbed the speed dial key he had assigned to Jo's number.

"Jo?" he asked the moment the call went through.

There was a pause. "Dean? That you?"

"Yep, it's me," he replied. "You, uh, called me yesterday?"

"Yeah, and it went straight to voicemail, as usual," she griped.

Dean chuckled. "You know me, babe," he said.

"Don't I," Jo replied, with a little laugh. "Wanted to ask you if you still want this box of cassette tapes I found under the stairs. All 70's and 80's metal, AC/DC and retro crap like that. Or, uh, I could just ditch 'em?"

She knew that threat would provoke a reaction from Dean.

"The hell," Dean gasped. "You dump those tapes, and I'll never forgive you. They were Dad's."

"Oh, sorry," Jo apologized quickly. She knew Dean was sensitive about his dad. "So, you want them?"

Sure Dean wanted them. How could he have forgotten about them? His dad's rock collection. He had grown up to that soundtrack constantly playing in the Impala. Jeez, how he wished John hadn't had to sell that damn car.

"Sure," he said. "It's just... I'm moving to the West Coast, like today. California."

He heard Jo inhale. "California?" Was there a touch of upset in her voice? "Well, uh, that'll be nice for you. What brought this on?"

"Not right now," Dean thought. "Time for confessions later."

"Had enough of the rain," he joshed. "Gonna chase the sun for a change."

Jo chuckled. "Sounds like fun. So, uh, you gonna swing by and pick up the tapes on your way, huh?"

Dean hesitated. Yeah, he could do that. He could get Sam to 'swing by' Jo's, and then he would have to introduce Jo to Sam and Sam to Jo, but that would be way too heavy right now.

"Tell you what," he said. "You hold on to them, babe, and I'll send for them once I get settled in."

"Wha? You want me to store them for you?" He could see her shaking her head. "OK, Dean, I'll hold onto them a couple more weeks, but then, you know, trash can."

Dean winced. "I'll let you know," he affirmed. Couple weeks in sunny Palo Alto and maybe he would be ready for the truth. "That all you wanned?"

"Yeah, that was it," Jo agreed. "And, uh, just to ask how you're doing, honey."

Dean found it cute the way, even though it had been more than a year since they had agreed to go their separate ways, Jo still worried about him.

He smiled. "I'm doing great," he said. "More then great actually. Babe, you'd be surprised."

Jo laughed. "Nothing you do would surprise me, Dean," she chuckled. "Unless you told me you, I dunno, came out or something."

"Jo," he growled warningly. Jeez, his ex sure had a way of accidentally hitting the nail on the head.

"Just kidding," she said and snickered. "Good luck in California, Dean. Hope you find what you're looking for out there."

"Yeah. Well, I hope so too, Jo. I really do," he wound up the call.

Dean sighed. He stood up from the building's steps and walked to the curb of the sidewalk to stare at the line of traffic.

Where the hell was that sonovabitch Sam?

TBC

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A/N: Next chapter we'll hear from Sam. More tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Where is Sam? Well, here's Sam's POV.

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Love Express (Chapter 2) by frostygossamer

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Sam was stuck in traffic. After making a detour to pick up that little trailer affair for Dean's belongings, he had gotten stuck behind a tailback from some bump that had gridlocked the entire district. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Dean was going to be getting antsy waiting for him. Maybe he should call him? Then again maybe not. If the guy couldn't sit tight for 30 or even 60 more minutes, then maybe he shouldn't be even taking him to California.

Not that Sam really wanted to think about something like that. He had given Dean time, plenty time, then he had asked the guy if he wanted to come live with him, no pressure. And Dean had said yes. YES, by God. Sam had had all his fingers and toes crossed, so that he was nearly cramping up, and held his breath so long he nearly passed out, and Dean had said yes. Sam wasn't about to let him go back on that, but he wasn't going to harass him on it either. And so no phone call. Not yet anyways. He switched his cell off and threw it in the glovebox.

Sam switched on some music to cool his temper. Something soothing by Vivaldi spilled out of the radio, and Sam took a deep calming breath. He did not like traffic jams. That was the beauty of riding the bus, a least then, if you get stuck in traffic, you can move around some. Sam felt trapped in the driver's seat, never a comfortable position for a tall guy like him.

Dean was so going to drive the first leg.

It had taken Sam a couple of months to get around Dean's natural reluctance to change, and to talk him into thinking of their relationship as a RELATIONSHIP. He had promised Dean he would ride the bus with him every day, but he should have known that Dean would prefer to be picked up and given a daily ride to work in Sam's car. And, yeah, he had insisted on being dropped just short of the garage. Sam didn't know who Dean thought he was fooling. It was pretty damn obvious that the guy didn't want his 'homies' asking questions about his new 'friend'.

It had been difficult 'courting' Dean. Sam had been clever enough to avoid anything overtly romantic. There were no candle-lit dinners, no long walks in the park, no snuggling up with a romcom and hot chocolate with itty-bitty marshmallows. Hell no, there had been a couple great tickets to a ball game, a famous as-seen-on-TV all-you-can-eat diner, a drunken karaoke night that luckily neither of them could really remember. Man-dates.

Man-dates suited Dean, and Sam had come to realize they suited him too. High-toned romanticism had been very much his ex-partner Dave's thing. It was so refreshing for Sam to just enjoy doing guy things with his new guy. Dean was no phoney sophisticate. He was a beautiful diamond in the rough and Sam loved that about him.

That and the sex. Dean had been a little embarrassed that he was so ignorant about exactly what gay men get up to. Sure, Dean had plenty experience with women, Sam knew he had been in a long term relationship with one, but his misconceptions about homosexual 'practices' were, frankly, adorable. Sam had had to put on his teacher's hat and enrol Dean in 'Homoerotics 101'. It had turned out to be a real fun class.

Sam had been kind of amused to discover that Dean was a little scared of backdoor entry. He had visions of being thrown on his belly, held down and stabbed anally by something as long and painful as a baseball bat. What those jerk-ass gay-bashers had filled the poor boy's head with, Sam could only imagine.

Finesse. That was what Sam believed in. Lips, tongue and fingers, gentle but firm fingers, were what he focussed on. And those were his skills. Lips, tongue and fingers were all he needed to make his lover writhe on the bed in incoherent rapture, all Sam needed to join him in ecstasy. The P-word could wait awhile. Sam was a patient guy.

He knew it had been underhanded of him to 'pop the question' right when Dean was at his most used up and pliable. A little unfair even to make the guy promise his future to him while his head was still screwed up by the fog of his climax. But, hell, Sam wasn't going to risk asking the most beautiful man he had ever met to come live with him anytime but when he was least likely to be rejected.

Because Dean could so reject him, Sam was aware of that. He would so reject him, not because his heart didn't want Sam, but just because 'no' could slip over his recalcitrant lips so much more easily than 'yes'. Feelings were hard for Dean, and Sam knew the guy was primed to run.

Of course, the moment Dean came down from his sex-high and sobered up, he was all 'sorry I only wish I could but really I just can't'. But Dean HAD said yes, and Sam saw it as an irrefutable fact that consent given while in the extremes of emotion HAD to be heart-felt, at least. Still, he had been ready for the take-back the following morning, and had simply asked Dean to wait.

He had begged him, "Dean baby, let it be, a few days. Let it settle in. Then if you gotta change your answer... Never know, you could get used to the idea."

And Dean HAD waited. And Dean was still waiting.

~X~

Sam found himself smirking at remembered pleasures, as he rounded the corner into Dean's street. He immediately spotted the loose heap of bags and boxes piled around the steps of Dean's building. A tall guy in jeans and a leather jacket was standing on the sidewalk, facing in the opposite direction, looking down the street. Sam pulled up and bounced out of his SUV, tapping the guy on the shoulder, a big grin on his face. The guy spun around.

It wasn't Dean.

Sam's smile dropped immediately he saw the strange guy's confused and slightly hostile face. He apologized profusely.

"S-sorry, dude. Sorry," he stammered. "Thought you were someone else."

The guy shrugged. "Sure," he replied not totally convinced, but, right then, some blonde walked out of Dean's building and grabbed his arm, dragging him away.

"Huh. Honest mistake," Sam muttered, shaking his head. So where was Dean?

As he turned back to Dean's belongings, scattered on the sidewalk, he noticed a bag lady was getting interested in one particular duffel. Striding over he pushed a bill in her filthy fingers and took the bag away from her. She smiled gratefully and, now feeling that he had been a mite cold, he peeled off another bill.

"There," he said, smiling back at her. "And that's for tomorrow."

She grinned wide with broken teeth. "Thank you so much, my dear," she said, before shuffling off.

Sam decided the best thing to start with was stowing Dean's crap in his trailer. He picked up all the boxes, bags and packages, slotting them neatly into the two-wheeler, and locked up. Then he went inside the building to look for Dean.

~X~

Not having ever visited with Dean in his own apartment, Dean was kind of ashamed of his humble walk-up, Sam wasn't sure which floor to check out. As luck would have it, he met a cleaner coming downstairs carrying a vacuum.

"Uh, hi, ma'am," he began. "Can you tell me which apartment belongs to Dean-"

"Oh yeah Dean," the middle-aged woman cut him off. "'Fraid you missed him. He moved out today."

"Yeah, and I was supposed to meet him here," Sam commented. "We're driving to California."

"Oh yeah. He said that," she responded. "Well, he WAS out front when I arrived. But he's not there now."

Sam nodded. "Yep. I had noticed."

"Been up to give his old place a once-over and I found this under his bed," she explained, fishing in her pocket and handing an envelope to Sam. "I looked out the window and he was still there, but then he took off down the street. 'Spect he'll be back soon. You can give that to him then."

Sam took the envelope and stuffed it in his pocket. "Which way did he go?" he asked.

The woman fiddled with her vacuum cable. "He went down the street toward Bar Barian's. I guess you could try there if you don't wanna wait around."

A bar? That sounded like Dean. Seemed that Dean HAD gotten antsy, as Sam had feared, and had gone to get himself a drop of Dutch Courage to calm his skittery nerves. Sam decided he should take a look in Bar Barian's.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said and hurried away.

TBC

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A/N: Has Dean bolted? We shall see. More tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

There was something up with my FanFiction Net last night so sorry this chapter got delayed.

A/N: Sam should have known patience and Dean don't mix. We'll start with Dean POV.

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Love Express (Chapter 3) by frostygossamer

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After ending his call with Jo, Dean noticed the time on the display. It was getting close to noon, and his stomach immediately took the hint and started to grumble. How much longer was Sam going to be? He could die of hunger. He really could. Was he actually going to go be with a guy who didn't care if he starved to death? He glanced at the junk he had piled around the steps. He could go get something to eat, only he would have to leave all his crap right there.

"Hiya, Dean."

He wheeled around at the sound of the woman's voice behind him. It was the super's sister in coveralls. Her brother sometimes put a little cleaning work her way.

"Hey, hot stuff," he quipped.

She was a cheerful, plump woman in her early sixties and she appreciated the hyperbole.

Scanning the junk on the sidewalk, she asked him, "Honey, you moving out or something?"

"Uh-huh," he agreed. "Heading off to sunny California."

"Ooh," she responded, with a grin. "Sun, sand and senoritas, huh?"

Pretty much what the guys at the repair shop had said when he handed Luis his notice. They couldn't have been more wrong. Dean had to snicker a little.

"Something like that," he answered, as she waddled inside.

Dean's stomach gave another angry rumble. He really had to get something to eat. It was going to be a LONG ride and he didn't want to have to stop for food too soon. They needed to get rolling.

"Dammit, Sam." Dean came to a decision.

Nothing on the sidewalk really mattered much to him, except one thing. He picked up his Dad's box and headed off briskly, anxious to find himself some take-out for the long drive.

As he hurried around the corner, he took out his phone and send Sam a text:

SAM. FOOD RUN TO REUBENS DELI. BACK IN 5.

~X~

Reuben's Express Deli was a favourite stop for the denizens of that part of town, a friendly family place owned by a single Jewish family for three generations. They produced the best kosher burgers Dean had ever tasted and some amazing subs.

"Hi, Dean," the current owner greeted his loyal customer.

"Shalom," Dean replied. "Your mom in today?"

The old woman came bustling in from the back of the deli.

"Shalom, Dean," she greeted him with a wink. "What can I do for you today, honey?"

Like all the women Dean met, this elderly matron had succumbed completely to his boyish charm.

"Sweetheart, can you make me up one of your extra-special sandwiches. I got me a long drive ahead today. You know everything I like."

The old woman grinned. "So I do, darling," she answered, smiling, and began putting together an enormous man-sized feast between two slices of freshly baked bread.

"Oh, and can you also throw together something awesome for a near-vegetarian health freak with an unnatural salad obsession?" he asked hopefully.

She chuckled good-humouredly. "I got some beautiful cheese, and homemade relishes you would sell your soul for. Don't you worry, darling."

After a minute, Dean began to fidget in front of the counter. She shot him a quizzical look.

"Need to be getting back," he explained.

"To the salad lover?" she asked, as she wrapped up his order.

"Uh-huh," he nodded. "We're going to California." There was something about this kindly old woman that made him want to come clean, at least to one person. "I'm, uh, we're gonna go live there... together."

She smiled as she placed his order in a paper bag with 'Reuben's Express' on the side and handed it over.

"Well, I hope you'll both be very happy, darling," she said.

Dean grinned as he settled up, and turned to go.

Just before the door closed the old woman added, "Tell her 'Gute mazl' from me."

"'Her'," Dean thought. "If she only knew, she'd throw a freakin' conniption."

~X~

Sam opened the door to Bar Barian's and walked in. The place was almost empty because it didn't serve food and, so near lunch, most people were someplace else that did. He approached the bar and perched on a stool.

"Can I get you something?" the barman asked, throwing his glass cloth over his shoulder.

"You seen a guy in here today about yay tall, spiky hair, green eyes, cheeky grin?" Sam asked.

The barman chuckled. "Sounds like Dean," he guessed at once. "And, no, he hasn't been in today."

Sam should have known that the local bars would be on familiar terms with Dean. He had already noticed that the guy drank way too much. It was a problem Sam was going to have to address in the future, as a loyal partner with his beloved's welfare to think about. Looking out for Dean's health was a responsibility that was going to come with the territory.

Sam sighed and stood back up slowly. The barman watched him, looking a little concerned.

"I'll tell him you were asking after him, if I see him. OK?" he offered.

Sam nodded and moved to the door.

"And you are...?" the barman asked.

"Sam," Sam supplied.

Then the barman had an idea.

"If you need to find him sooner, you might try Reuben's Express Deli along the block," he suggested. "I've seen him with their lunch bags."

Sam walked outside and exhaled loudly. OK, the deli was worth a try, but if Dean wasn't there he was going to have to assume the jerk-ass was in the wind.

"Goddamn ass-hat," he groaned.

Sam was learning that Dean could be a thoughtless jerk sometimes.

~X~

When he came out of the deli, Dean all but walked into a woman climbing out of a taxicab with a bunch of yelping yorkies. The tiny animals swirled around Dean's feet, almost making him drop his combined burden of John's box and take-out. Dean and little dogs didn't mix well.

"Hey, lady," he complained, attempting to keep his take-out above the reach of their snapping jaws.

The immaculately groomed brunette smiled at him ruefully. "Oh, I'm SO sorry," she exclaimed.

"No problem," he assured her, shooting her that sexy smile he hardly even knew he was using.

Dean couldn't help it. He was just so effortlessly charming around attractive chicks. It would get him in trouble one of these days. She giggled as she unwound her hungry little pets' leashes from around his long legs. Time was Dean would have given that hottie his number, but he had done that for the last time.

"See you around," she threw over her shoulder coyly, as she walked away.

Dean smirked. "Time was," he commented to himself.

Then he had an idea. Jo's place was only a couple shakes from there by cab. He could be there and back in no time. Sam would have to hang on till he showed up. Anyways, if the guy couldn't sit tight for 30 or even 60 more minutes, then maybe he shouldn't be even going with him to California.

Before he had a chance to second-guess himself, he jumped in the cab with his stuff and gave the driver Jo's address, the address that used to also be his.

In the back of the taxi he keyed in and sent Sam a second text:

SAM. QUICK DETOUR. BACK IN 15 TOPS.

~X~

Sam came out of the bar and cussed. He should have known Dean would get cold feet if he didn't have his hand held the entire time. Dammit, he should have spent the night with the guy, kept him sweet and on program, but he had had so many last minute crises to handle at WinchesterTech. He wasn't the kind of guy to just clear his desk and walk out dumping everything in Rachel's lap. They hadn't finished up till late, by which time Dean would have been asleep anyways.

Where was Dean and what was he playing at? He strode along the street in the direction of this Reuben's Deli. When he got there he grabbed the doorknob and stormed into the store. The owner and his mom hugged each other in fright. Seeing their shocked faces, Sam calmed down and held up both hands in appeasement.

"It's OK," he said. "I'm just looking for someone. Tall guy, not as tall as me, short hair, cocky attitude, face like an angel?"

The two nervous people sighed and let go of each other.

"I believe he must mean Dean," the owner commented to his mother.

The old woman nodded. "Dean was here, just now. In fact, you only just missed him. He seemed a little jumpy. He got in a taxicab outside and whoosh he was gone." She waved her hand.

Sam felt like tearing out his hair. Dean had gone who knows where and he probably wasn't coming back. He sank defeated into a chair and leaned on the table, head in his hands.

Feeling sorry for him, the owner's mother came around the counter and sat down across from him. She patted his shoulder soothingly.

"It's alright, darling," she said. "I think he only went to meet some woman."

Sam started to sob.

TBC

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A/N: Poor Sam. He thinks Dean has split. If he'd just waited by the car... More tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Let's see how it turns out...

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Love Express (Chapter 4) by frostygossamer

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Dean jumped out of the cab directly outside Jo's place and hammered on the front door. He knew she would be home because lately she was only helping out at her mom's place in the evenings. He shifted from foot to foot on the doorstep until he heard his ex unlock and open up.

"Jo," he said quickly. "I've come for Dad's cassettes."

Taken by surprise, Jo peered over his shoulder at the cab, parked with its engine running.

"You in some hurry, fast-buck?" she asked innocently.

Dean rolled his eyes impatiently. "You got the tapes or what?" he demanded.

Jo frowned and turned to go in the house. "OK, Dean, OK," she said. "They're right here," and she came back with a battered cardboard box, which rattled as she handed it to Dean. "Not coming in?"

"No," Dean answered, but then he sighed and relaxed a little. "It's just... Gotta freakin' hustle. I'm supposed to meet him at-"

"Him?" Jo asked curiously, cutting him off.

Dean realized he had almost said too much. "Uh, the guy I'm riding with to California."

"Oh, you're riding with a buddy," Jo responded. "Do I know him?"

"No," Dean answered quickly. He paused then, in a rush, babbled, "Jo, he's my lover his name's Sam and I'm gonna go live with him."

OK, so he had had a sudden stupid impulse to come clean about Sam to Jo. Jo who had always railed at him for keeping secrets and denying his feelings. The instant the words were out of his mouth, he regretted opening it. Damn, what was she going to think. And, on second thoughts, he now reckoned 'boyfriend' was probably the better word.

Jo's mouth fell open in surprise, but then her expression morphed into a grin.

"Didn't I say?" she taunted him.

Jo hadn't forgotten that one stormy argument they had had, shortly before they separated for good, when she had called doubt on Dean's oh-so-macho posturing.

"Reckon you're so freakin' butch, Dean!" she had yell. "Overcompensating much?"

At the time it had taken Dean by surprise and, yeah, he had denied it vociferously. But Jo had planted a seed of uncertainty in his mind that had later caused him to reassess himself some. After all, if anybody really knew him, it was Jo. This had eventually led him to admit one or two things to himself. Like the fact that, as well as his penchant for sexy ladies, he had always had a deeply repressed weakness for a certain species of built male.

But he had never shared that revelation with his ex.

Dean frowned. "Never gave YOU any reason to doubt me, honey," he protested.

Jo chuckled and gave her ex a peck of a kiss. "I hope you'll be very happy, Dean. Truly I do. And I hope this guy... Sam?... gets what a piece of work he's taking on."

"Oh Jeez," Dean gasped, glancing at his watch. "Jo, I really gotta go."

He jumped back in the cab with his new package and they shot away, leaving Jo waving and making the 'Call me' hand gesture.

~X~

When Sam had sobbed silently in the deli for several minutes, he began to pull himself together. The concerned Reubens had made him a reviving pot of herbal tea which had helped him recover his self-control. Fumbling in his pocket for a handkerchief, he came upon the envelope the cleaner had entrusted to him.

He laid the mysterious missive on the table and stared at it blankly for a few moments, thinking, if Dean was gone, the damn thing was never going to get itself returned. Then, for the first time, he realized it had the name 'SAM' printed on the outside. It was for him! He ripped the envelope open and took out the letter inside, then he read it with increasing horror.

It read:

Dear Sam,

I'm sorry, I really am, but I won't be coming with you to Palo Alto after all.

You may be the most awesome guy I have ever met, but I can't honestly see myself fitting in at Stanford. I really can't see myself living with a guy. The lifestyle isn't me. I only wish it could be.

I hope you can forgive me some day. You're a great guy, Sam. The best. And I know you'll find someone else soon, someone who deserves you, someone better than me.

Have a great life, Sam.

Good-bye and good luck,  
Dean

It was what they used to call a 'Dear John' letter. Dean was breaking up with him. It was the worst news Sam could had ever gotten. He tossed it down on the table with a groan.

"Dammit, Dean," he grumbled unhappily. "You are such a freakin' jerk."

~X~

In the back of the cab, Dean keyed in a hasty text to Sam:

SAM. SORRY IM LATE. BACK IN 10 MINS. HANG TIGHT.

The cab carried Dean right back to his old apartment building, where he unloaded his two boxes of John's treasures and his deli sandwiches. He cursed when he saw that Sam's SUV was already there, all of Dean's crap loaded in the back and in the two-wheeler trailer, but no sign of Sam. The super's sister hailed him from the steps of the building.

"You looking for that Man Mountain who arrived with the SUV?" she asked.

"Yeah, where'd he go?" Dean demanded, walking over.

The woman put down her cleaning equipment and came down to street level.

"Honey, I sent him to Bar Barian's to look for you. Figured you maybe needed a drink."

Dean sighed and shook his head. "Sam, you doofus," he muttered.

The thing was, he had actually considered popping in Bar Barian's, to get Sam and him some beer for the journey. But that was before the side trip to Jo's.

"Oh, and I gave him some letter I found under your bed," the woman continued. "Hope that was OK."

"F**k!" Dean cursed, of all the things Sam didn't need.

In his rush this morning he had forgotten to throw the damn thing in the trash. It was his typical bad luck that it should wind up in Sam's hands, exactly where he didn't want it.

That stupid freakin' letter!

~X~

Leaving his encumbrances with the super's sister and swearing to be back in ten, Dean stomped around to Bar Barian's as fast as he was able. The barman raised an eyebrow as Dean crashed in through the door.

"Dude," Dean gasped. "You have a guy in here, big like a... a moose, floppy hair, name of Sam?"

"Sam? Oh yeah," the barkeep responded. "He WAS here. Not now though. Oddly enough, he was looking for YOU. I sent him to Reuben's Express. You owe him money or something?"

Dean almost collapsed with the enormity of his foul-up. He pulled out his cellphone and dialled the deli. He had all his favourite eateries on speed dial.

Sinking onto a stool, "You may as well get me some beer," he told the barman.

~X~

Back at the deli, the owner was elbowed out of the way by his mother, who picked up the phone after only two rings.

"Yes, Dean, he's right here," she told her caller, without needing to hear his question. "He's not feeling so good. You better come get him, I think."

A couple minutes later, she and her son found something important to do out back, as Dean barged through the deli's door and plonked a case of beer on Sam's table.

"Dean!" Sam yelped, not sure if he should be relieved or furious.

"Sam, you total jerk-ass," Dean growled. "Thought we were gonna take a road trip. Time to load up, dude."

Sam looked confused. "Dean. I read your letter," he quavered, waving the scribbled sheet in Dean's face.

Dean snatched the offending piece of paper from his hand and ripped it up.

"This is a piece of trash," he growled. "Literally."

He drew a chair up close to the big guy and flopped down.

"Yeah, Sam, I did sit up last night and write the damn thing," he admitted. "Wedding nerves, I guess. Can't say I'm 100 per cent upbeat about Palo Alto. Dude, it's one helluva big step for me."

"I know it is, Dean," Sam agreed. "But..."

"But," Dean interrupted. "Woke up this morning and all I could think about was seeing you, ya big dumb-ass. Realized that if you moved to the West Coast without me I'd... Well, I'd always regret it. So I tossed the damn letter. Never meant for you to read it, kiddo."

Sam sighed. "Dude, what was I supposed to think when you took off without a word that way?"

Dean clucked at him. "You ever read your damn text messages, knucklehead?"

Sam's face slowly registered understanding. "Phone's in the SUV," he explained.

"Well, there you go, dumb-ass," retorted Dean, affectionately.

Sam reached across the table and took Dean's hands in his. "So, we're still on, huh?" he asked.

Dean nodded. "Sure are," he concurred. "C'mon. Sitting here on our asses ain't gonna get us to California."

TBC

* * *

A/N: So they're finally on the same page and ready to go. That's all I had prepared. Now I'm busy WIPping the rest. Don't worry. I do have the story in my head. More soon.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So off they go on their road trip...

* * *

Love Express (Chapter 5) by frostygossamer

* * *

After they had finally gotten all Dean's crap in the SUV, Sam decided he was going to drive after all. He needed to feel in control of the situation again. When they were ready to pull away, Dean had a last twinge of nostalgia.

"You OK?" Sam asked, seeing the wistful look on his beloved's face.

Dean sighed and smiled faintly. "Thinking about Dad," he explained. "We came here when I was a teen. It was Dad's first settled job since we lost Mom."

Sam had already heard how Dean's mother had died in a house fire when he was still a little kid, and how his dad had raised him single-handed. It explained a lot about why Dean was so closed up emotionally.

"Your dad would have been OK with this, Dean," he assured him.

"You think?" asked Dean doubtfully. "Dad was an old-fashioned guy, Sam. He wasn't exactly liberal in his ideas."

Sam suspected Dean was probably right. Thank God he hadn't had to go ask John for Dean's hand in... whatever. But even a man's man like John wouldn't have wanted his child to be unhappy. Surely?

"He would have wanted you to be happy," Sam pointed out. "You were his kid, baby. He loved you."

Dean exhaled. "Yeah, I guess," he agreed, his eyes moist. "Not sure he would have taken to you much though. Bad touching his boy," he chuckled, trying to mask his feelings with a joke.

Sam reached across and turned Dean's face toward him then, easing closer, he pressed his lips against his lover's mouth. Dean returned the kiss warmly.

"That better?" Sam asked as they parted, deliberately making eye contact.

"Uh-huh," Dean answered, nodding. "I'm fine."

Sam grinned. "Then I guess we can get going," he laughed, as he started the engine and pulled out into traffic.

At last they were on their way west together. Hopefully nothing else could go wrong.

~X~

"What the hell is that crap?"

Dean's voice roused Sam from a driving induced trance. The guy had been dozing peacefully on the seat beside him for the last hour, face smooth and perfect like an angel, while Sam followed the straight road westward. Not so much like an angel when he was awake.

Sam snorted. That particular song on the radio had become something of a favourite with him lately.

"Love that track. Guy's got a great voice," he commented.

Dean stretched, popping his back.

"'All your secret wishes' la la la la 'coming true'," he sang along, mockingly. "Nah, lemme find something else."

He started fiddling with the radio's buttons, pausing for a second on a news broadcast.

"Five hitchhikers in their mid-20s to 30s have been reported missing in the last three months. The police are-"

Dean cut off the report to scan for a better station. Finally pressing the off button in disgust.

"I'll put on a CD," Sam offered.

Dean grunted. "Dude, remember I've seen your faggy-ass CD collection."

Sam chuckled. "Hey. 'Holding Out for a Hero' is one great driving anthem."

"What we need is a rock classic," Dean insisted, twisting around to hang over the back of the seat while he searched in the rear for his overnight duffel.

Sam was finding the sight of his lover's pert denim-clad behind up in the air to be somewhat diverting his attention from the road. Taking one hand off of the steering wheel he smacked Dean on the ass.

"Hey," Dean objected playfully, sliding back into his seat, MP3 player in hand. "Where'd you get off with the butt-slapping, dude?"

He fixed his player into Sam's iPod jack and selected himself some AC/DC. Then he sat back and let the riffs wash over him.

"Now that's what I call driving music," he said, and began playing air drums along to the rhythm.

Sam rolled his eyes. He was going to have to get used to Dean's taste in music, so he might as well start now. Dean was a 'love me, love my choices' kind of a guy.

~X~

A few miles down the road. Sam spotted a flash of colour in his rearview mirror which quickly caught up with them. It was an open-topped roadster bearing three revealingly dressed young women who hooted and hollered, waving and blowing kisses at them. Dean grinned and rolled down his window to wave back.

"Hi, guys," one chick yelled. "We're on vacation."

"Yeah, goin' surfin'," piped up another.

"Can't wait to get my feet in the ocean," cheered the third.

Dean stuck his head out, leaning on the open window. "We're off to Cali too. Maybe we'll see you there, girls?" he commented, treating them to his trademark smile.

"Ooh, baby, I hope so," agreed the girl driver, before she put her foot down and shot ahead.

Dean eased back in the SUV. Sam was staring straight-faced out the windshield. He made no comment.

"What?" Dean asked, disingenuously. "Just being friendly," then added, a little guiltily, "Not a freakin' crime, dude."

Sam couldn't keep up the mask any longer. "It's OK, Dean," he chuckled. "Not gonna chew you out for a little flirting. Know you can't help yourself, man."

Dean grumbled but settled down again. Right then a black RV with tinted windows zoomed by, startling Sam whose attention had been partly on Dean.

"Jeez," he gasped. "Time we pulled over for a breather. You hungry?"

They had been on the road a while and they were both a little sick of the cramped space inside the SUV. Also, Sam was quite ready to hand over the driving to Dean. It having been some time since they had finished their deli sandwiches, Dean nodded enthusiastically.

"Hell yeah, I could eat," he agreed.

Sam pulled over at the next diner they came to, and they stepped down gratefully onto terra firma.

~X~

The diner was one of those grungy places frequented by long-distance truckers, where the staff seemed to deeply miss the days when they were allowed to smoke over the food. The waitresses were old battleaxes wearing too much lipstick. All except one, and her name was Winona. Winona was a peach.

They picked a random booth and sat down. Winona was right over, scenting a better class of prey than was normally available.

"Hi, boys. And what can I getcha?" she asked, her pencil poised over her pad.

Dean leaned back in his seat and grinned winningly, spotting the name badge prominently displayed on her ample bosom.

"Winona honey, I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon, extra fries. And a Coke."

Sam shot him a look. "I'll have a chef's salad," he added. "With an OJ. Thanks."

Winona smiled a sweet little smile and hurried away, wriggling her butt for the guys' benefit. Dean benefited from it somewhat more than Sam.

"Hot buns," Dean chuckled, turning to face Sam, who regarded him with one eyebrow raised.

Dean schooled his face into a frown. "Not gone blind, dude," he said. "Eyes ain't freakin' gay."

Sam huffed. He was pretty sure HIS eyes were gay, judging from the way they kept wandering lovingly over Dean's body.

"Not saying a word," he commented.

"Well, that there was four words," Dean pointed out.

Sam scoffed. "We eat; we leave," he pronounced.

"Fine with me," Dean agreed, a smile returning to his face as he spotted his burger approaching.

Sam was relieved to notice that, with his food on the table, Dean's eyes never strayed back to the waitress who brought it.

"Thanks," Sam told her.

~X~

They left the diner after visiting the john to freshen up, and after Dean had picked up his order of pie to go. Sam dusted down the passenger seat of his SUV and got in. He watched as Dean slid behind the wheel with the carton of pie cradled in his lap.

"Dude, you gonna freakin' eat that in here?" he demanded.

Dean gaped. "Ate my damn sandwiches in here. NOW you're gonna gripe about crumbs?"

Sam huffed. "Breadcrumbs and a little mayo are one thing, sticky-ass sugar syrup is something else."

"Don't tell me I've gotten myself with a neat freak," Dean groaned.

Sam huffed again. "Not a neat freak, man. Just... These seats are leather."

Dean gave in. He couldn't argue with that.

"OK, OK," he said. "I'll eat it next time we pull over," and he threw the box in the back.

He started the engine and drove out on the highway. A few minutes further on, he turned to Sam and grinned.

"Sorry," he said.

Sam, who had his eyes closed, opened one curiously. "'Bout what?" he asked.

"Sorry for flirting with that waitress Winona. Didn't mean anything by it. We still good?"

Sam shuffled around in his seat, trying to find a position where his legs were more comfortable.

"It's fine," he murmured. "I know. We're good."

That settled, Dean let Sam drift off to sleep with his floppy-haired head resting on his shoulder.

~X~

The next time Sam opened his eyes it was dusk. Lights were lit along the highway and the instruments on the dashboard stood out bright in the dark interior of the SUV. Dean was driving with an absent expression on his face.

"Where are we?" Sam asked, his voice a little croaky.

Dean shook himself. "Dunno," he responded, glancing at the panel. "Someplace, uh..."

Sam sighed and sat up, willing himself awake.

"Reckon it's time we pulled in for the night," he remarked.

Dean scoffed. "We can make plenty more mileage before night," he asserted.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "But we're both beat. What we need is a hot shower and bed. Pull over someplace soon."

Dean knew a command when he heard one, so he started to look out for a motel sign.

"There's one," he pointed out, after a few minutes.

Sam craned out the window, his eagle eyes catching the outline of the friendly chicks' roadster parked in the motel's lot.

"Not this one," he objected hastily. "Looks kinda sleazy."

The next motel had a huge pink neon sign displaying a heart with an arrow through it.

"This one," Sam insisted.

"Really?" Dean grouched. "Dude, looks like a freakin' cathouse."

Sam chuckled. "Sure, Dean. Let's go get ourselves a couple hos," he snarked.

So they pulled to a halt in the parking lot. Dean stepped down as Sam unfolded himself from the car.

"I'll find our overnight stuff," Sam said. "YOU go get us a room."

Dean took that as a challenge.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Will Dean be up to getting them a double bed or not? More soon.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Are they gonna get frisky tonight? ;) N.B. Rating now M.

* * *

Love Express (Chapter 6) by frostygossamer

* * *

While Sam fumbled around in the SUV for their hand luggage, Dean had been dispatched to get a room. OK, so it was an unspoken challenge. Dean guessed Sam didn't think he could bring himself to ask for a room with a double bed.

As he walked to the office, he passed a slim redhead in a short tight skirt who kept looking at her watch, evidently waiting for someone. He winked at her as he passed. She smiled back self-consciously.

"Nice legs," he thought.

Inside the manager's office, the clerk was a spotty-faced youth with a crooked eye. He was poring over a comic book when Dean entered, and tore himself away only very reluctantly.

"Hi there," he said, glancing up from the comic. "What can I do for you, sir?"

Surprisingly polite, he stared at Dean expectantly with his wayward eye. Dean hesitated a moment before he was sure the guy was actually looking at him.

"Oh, I, uh, I'd like a room," he gabbled.

"Uh-huh," drawled the teen, tapping on his computer keyboard. "Would that be a single or a double occupancy?"

"Double," Dean answered. So far so good.

The youth tapped a key. "And would that be a king-size or a couple queens?" he asked, attempting to look past Dean and glimpse whoever he was with.

Across the parking lot, Sam was struggling to find his bag in the back of the SUV. Closer to the office, there stood the redhead Dean had noticed before. Dean automatically shifted his stance to block the clerk's view of the parking area. The youth spotted the redhead and grinned. Dean saw him putting two and two together and crossed his fingers. OK, the clerk thought he was with the ginger chick. That worked for him.

"Uh, that would be a king-size," he rushed out.

The teen snickered. "Uh. Huh," he chuckled, tapping another key.

Then, reaching toward a rack of keys without taking his eyes off of the screen, he picked up a room key by its heart-shaped fob and passed it to Dean.

"Have a nice day," he intoned, immediately returning his attention to his comic book.

Dean tossed the key in his hand. "Well, that was pretty painless," he thought, allowing himself to feel a tiny thrill of triumph.

He walked back to the SUV with a grin on his face. Sam was sitting on the hood, bags at his feet. He smiled when he saw Dean jingling the key.

"Any problems?" he asked.

"Nuh-uh," Dean replied happily. "No problemo."

~X~

They let themselves in the room and Sam had to hide a little double take as he entered behind Dean. Was it wishful thinking or had Dean actually gotten them a king-size bed? The guy surprised him sometimes.

Dean walked on over to the bed and sat down grinning.

"Didn't think I had the balls, huh?" he asked challengingly.

Sam chuckled. "Just amazed the desk clerk didn't put you in an awkward place over the 'king' or 'queen' question."

Dean smirked. "Maybe," he admitted.

"Wanna go get something to eat?" Sam asked, putting down their overnight bags.

He had spotted there was a diner right next to the motel that was still open.

"Nah," Dean responded, cracking his neck. "Too freakin' tired. Reckon I'll wait for breakfast."

Sam let Dean take the first shower. While he undressed in the main room, he smiled to himself at the delectable little oohs and aahs Dean gave out as the deliciously hot water soothed his travel-weary muscles. How he wished they had gotten into shower-sex already. Still, that was a treat to look forward to, sometime in the future.

Dean came out of the bathroom with a thin towel artfully draped around his hips, and proceeded to wander around the room as if unaware that Sam was staring at him.

"Dude, I left you some hot water," he commented generously, then added a smirky. "Don't take all night in there, tiger."

~X~

When Sam joined him again, Dean was laying in the centre of the bed under the covers with his eyes closed. His body was bared to the waist and Sam could see that his breathing was too fast and shallow for someone who was actually asleep. Sam flicked off the light, leaving the room illuminated only by Dean's frilly pink bedside lamp. He walked over, sat on the edge of the mattress and looked down fondly on his lover's perfect face.

Without opening his eyes, Dean griped, "Gonna sit there all night staring at me, or you wanna get in here and warm me up?"

Sam lifted the comforter and slipped in bed beside him. He propped himself up on one elbow and studied Dean for a moment, before leaning down and kissing him on those pink lips. Dean moaned gently and slid his arms around Sam's shoulders, pulling him close until they were laying chest on chest. Sam brushed Dean's short hair back from his face and pecked him on the temple.

"Wouldya quit it with that," Dean complained. "Gimme a REAL kiss, whydoncha."

Sam chuckled and obliged, taking his lover's lips with his own, pushing his tongue into Dean's mouth and claiming it. Dean moaned louder this time and moved his hips against Sam's.

"Guess you're not so tired after all," Sam remarked, grinning.

"Tacky motel room, creaky damn bed, paper-thin walls," Dean said. "Got a hankering to get noisy. What say we make us a ruckus?"

"You ARE talking sex, right?" Sam checked. "Not throwing a pool party?"

Dean bit his bottom lip. "Wanna do me, Sammy?" he suggested, mock-coyly.

Sam inhaled sharply. "You sure?" he asked.

They had never gone 'all the way' as yet. So far it had been all BJs and clever fingerwork. Dean nodded bravely, because inside he was still kind of nervous.

"Yep," he answered. "'Bout time."

Sam responded by leaning in for one more succulent kiss, and then climbing out of bed to go look in his bag. He fumbled in the side pocket of his duffel a second, and came straight on back to the bed. He waggled a tube of lube in Dean's face.

Dean's eyes popped. "You carry lubricant wherever you go?" he asked. "Freakin' sex-maniac."

Sam chuckled. "Only when I reckon there's some chance you could get horny, lover. Didn't wanna be caught unprepared."

"Resourceful son of a bitch," Dean commented appreciatively, welcoming the big guy back between the sheets. "So. How d'ya want me?" he asked airily.

Sam smiled. "The way you are right now is fine," he answered. "Just chill and let me do everything, huh?"

Dean nodded, swallowing. "Sure," he agreed, trying not to sound quavery.

Sam lifted up his lover's knees and knelt below him, placing Dean's feet on his thighs. He rubbed them gently to help relax him, shushing softly.

"Dude, not some skittish damn filly," Dean griped. "Don't need to be 'whispered', Redford."

Sam stopped rubbing. "You gonna lay there and be a bitch?" he demanded playfully.

Dean laughed. "Unfortunate terminology, jerk-ass," he commented.

Uncapping the lube and cracking the seal, Sam smeared his fingers and traced the outline of Dean's 'petit wazoo'. Dean flinched but then recovered himself, taking a couple deep breaths.

"This much we've done already," Sam reminded him.

He slipped a finger into the little orifice, moving it in gentle circles. Dean let out a long breath and sank lower into the mattress.

"This is good," he sighed. "This I like."

Sam took time preparing his lover attentively. He really wanted to make the first time good for Dean. And Dean couldn't help but let go a couple breathy curses. Something that never failed to arouse Sam. After a few minutes, Sam withdrew his hand and reached for a condom. He chuckled as he began unwrapping it.

"Never tried this with a farm animal," he joked. "Somehow I think I'd get less backtalk."

Dean groaned. "Not appreciating the analogy here, man," he complained.

"Sorry, baby," Sam chuckled, bobbing forward to kiss Dean's kneecap in apology before sitting back to roll the condom onto his stiffness.

Dean peeped at it between his legs. "Sheesh," he breathed. "You sure that thing's gonna fit?"

Sam wrapped Dean's legs around his waist and shuffled closer.

"Trust me, you got plenty room in there, baby," he assured him. "All you gotta do is relax and let me in."

Dean exhaled and put his head back, closing his eyes.

"OK," he said. "As ready as I'll ever be, Sammy. Bring it on."

In a heartbeat Sam was inside him. Dean cried out and Sam shifted, gently easing himself until he was buried deep in him.

"Jeez!" gasped Dean. "That freakin' hurts, asshole."

Sam shut him up with a kiss then grinned mischievously. Pulling out slowly he slammed back in like a freight train.

"Jeez-us!" yelled Dean, as he rocked backward on the bed.

Sam stilled for a moment. "You wanna stop?" he asked, now feeling concerned.

"Hell no!" Dean answered, pupils wide with arousal. "Dude, you stop and you're dead!"

Sam took up the gauntlet, and they made one hell of a ruckus, slapping the headboard off of the wall and annoying the neighbours. Dean, Sam discovered, could be a real noisy lay when he wanted to be, screaming when he came and cursing colourfully when he felt Sam release deep inside him.

When they were both spent, Sam exhaled and rolled over on his back. After a second he glanced at Dean and noticed the guy had turned away from him, laying with his knees pulled up to his chest. Not a happy posture. Sam needed to deal with that right away.

"Dean?" he said. "Baby. C'mere."

Dean sighed and looked at him over his shoulder. "It's OK," he said. "I'm OK, Sam."

Sam stretched over and forcibly rolled Dean toward him. He didn't protest. Instead he cuddled up to him, pressing his cheek on Sam's broad chest and shivering.

"Jeez, that was somethin'," he remarked.

Sam chuckled. Dean felt the deep vibration run through him.

"Baby, first time's always a shake-up," the big guy commented, rubbing Dean's arm comfortingly. "Next time it'll be better. Trust me."

Dean chuckled against his skin. "Hey, it was good. Real good. Truth is, I didn't expect it to be THAT good. You kinda wowed me, dude."

Sam smiled and kissed the top of Dean's head. Then he pulled the covers up over them both, so they could get comfortable, and placed a gentling hand on Dean's butt.

"Let's get ourselves some sleep, huh?" he suggested. "Long drive tomorrow."

Dean nodded sleepily. "Hmm. Guess you'll be driving, cowboy," he yawned.

TBC

* * *

A/N: 'Bout time, huh? ;) More plot soon. :)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry I missed a night. Busy and didn't have time to post. So, where were we? Ah, yes. They fell asleep in each other's arms. Ah!

* * *

Love Express (Chapter 7) by frostygossamer

* * *

The following morning, Sam woke first and lay for a long time with his arm trapped under Dean's chest, just because he couldn't bring himself to break the perfection of the moment. After a while Dean stirred, grumbled and turned over onto his back then fidgeted, muttering softly, until Sam retracted his arm, waking him.

"Hi, baby," Sam greeted him gently.

"Mhm," Dean murmured, his eyes focussing slowly. "Morning, Sammy."

Sam rolled toward him and kissed him on the mouth. "How're you feeling?"

Dean wriggled experimentally. "Actually I feel good," he said, like he was surprised.

Sam chuckled and got out of bed. "Gonna go shower. We can grab breakfast at that diner next door."

When he had disappeared in the bathroom, Dean slid to the side of the bed and sat up, swinging his legs onto the floor. He felt kind of different this morning. Complete. And a little sore. It felt strangely good. He got up and rummaged in his duffel for a change of clothes.

Sam came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed, and went straight over to Dean to plant a smacker of a kiss on him. He patted the shorter guy on the bare butt.

"Great. You're up," he said. "Dude, we need to get moving."

"Jackass," Dean muttered, as he hustled into the bathroom for his shower.

Sam was waiting outside the motel room when he finished up and joined him with his bag.

"Could eat a razorback hog," Dean declared. "Butt-sex gives me an appetite, apparently."

"Or maybe it's just because we skipped dinner?" Sam suggested.

~X~

The moment they walked in the diner, Dean felt all eyes were on him. And it wasn't just because of the ridiculously jangly bell over the door. They selected a booth and sat down quickly.

"What's with the people-watching?" Dean hissed, a little unnerved.

"I have ZERO idea," Sam replied, casually perusing the menu. "It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the level of noise you made last night."

Dean gasped. "You think they all heard us?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah. Just saying, I doubt anyone on site got any sleep."

Dean groaned. "This is too freakin' much. Can't sit here and eat."

He started to get up out of his seat, but Sam grabbed his arm and made him sit back down.

"Dean," he said. "Half of them are jealous, and the other half we won't see again anyways. Suck it up and order breakfast."

Dean exhaled huffily. "OK," he said. "But only because I'd give my right freakin' nut for a good meal right now."

Sam gave him an "Uh-huh?" to that.

Dean looked up and found a waitress standing over them with a sour look on her face.

"Uh, I'll take the special with a side of bacon and a stack of pancakes," he said quickly.

The woman glanced at Sam and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, and I'll have the same," he said, and gave her a big toothy smile.

"O... kay," she responded, shaking her head, and disappeared toward the service station.

~X~

Dean pushed his demolished plate away and leaned back in this seat, patting his stomach.

"Now that's what I call a GOOD breakfast," he said.

"Half decent," Sam agreed.

"Glad you think so," Dean said, standing up. "Cos you're paying."

He grabbed his duffel from under the table and made his way to the door, glancing back at the last moment to check if anyone was still watching him. A couple people looked down hastily. He treated them to a leering grin and went on outside.

Sam finished the last of his coffee and fished in his pocket for his wallet, dropping a few bills on the table before getting up to follow Dean. He picked up his own bag and strode to the exit.

Outside he was surprised to see a small group of motel staff hanging around, and barely caught a glimpse of Dean being forced protesting into the back of a police car, handcuffed.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Where the hell're they taking him?"

The pimply motel clerk looked up at Sam. "It's the guy that came here to meet with that woman. The chick that stole all that jewelry from the place she worked at. Her picture was on the news. I recognized her," he finished proudly.

"She was a looker that gal," an older employee added. "Red hair, great figure, legs, the works. Guy was her accomplice."

"Like hell he was," Sam declared.

Sam was starting to realized that his boyfriend had a real knack of getting into a fix.

~X~

Dean was still snickering to himself as he stepped out of the diner. His good mood didn't last long.

"There he is!" shouted the spotty youth from the office, pointing right at him. "That's him!"

Before Dean could react, a couple burly police officers had stepped up behind him and cuffs had been snapped on his wrists.

"Wha-what the hell?" he demanded. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I'm arresting you in connection with the theft of over twenty-five thousand dollars in jewelry from the Diamond World store two days ago," stated one officer.

"Dude, I wasn't even in this state two days ago," Dean objected.

Ignoring his protests, the cops dragged him to their patrol car, amid cheers from the small crowd that had gathered. One cop helped him a little roughly into the back of the cruiser.

"Man, you have so got the wrong guy," Dean protested.

The other officer leaned over the back of his seat.

"Oh yeah?" he chuckled. "Well, we'll see about that back at the station."

Dean fumed in the patrol car's backseat, muttering curses under his breath all the way to the station, where he was hauled out of the car and booked in.

"You gotta let me make a phone call right now," he declared.

He really needed to hear Sam's voice.

~X~

Sam jumped in his SUV and roared away down the highway. Who was this red-haired woman they claimed Dean had met? He vaguely remembered seeing some redheaded bitch outside the motel, but what did they mean, he was her accomplice? Why would they connect her and Dean?

He had to get to the station and find Dean before he got himself into more trouble. The thing was, Sam could totally believe Dean WAS quite capable of somehow making himself some criminal's accomplice in the five minutes he was out of Sam's sight. He was capable of anything.

Grinding to a halt outside the clearly signposted station, Sam ran inside full of indignation.

"You have a friend of mine in custody?" he told the desk sergeant. "He was just brought in? Wrongly arrested."

The sergeant snorted at that accusation. He shuffled his paperwork.

"That would be Mr. Dean-"

"Yeah, that would be him," Sam cut in. "Need to see him right now."

The cop sniffed and handed him a form. "Fill this in and wait over there," he said, indicating the waiting area.

Sam growled, filled in the form quickly, thrust it back at the officer and went and sat down on the uncomfortable plastic seating. It had clearly been designed for children or little people, not tall guys with long legs.

A second later his cell phone started to ring. The desk sergeant shot him a disapproving look as he pulled it out of his pants pocket and answered the call.

"Yeah, Dean," Sam said. "Don't worry, baby. I'm right here."

~X~

At the local police station, a beefy middle-aged officer put Dean in a cell and unlocked his handcuffs.

"Not the guy you're looking for," Dean asserted.

The officer sighed. He had heard that SO many times.

"The motel manager says you checked into a room with Missie Taylor last night," he repeated. "Still saying you don't know her?"

"The redhead? I DON'T know her," Dean insisted. "I checked into a room last night. But not with HER."

"The night clerk-" the officer began.

"The night clerk got it wrong," Dean claimed again. "I, uh, I let him get it wrong. Because I didn't want him to know who I WAS checking in with."

"Why not?" the cop asked dubiously.

Dean took a deep breath. "Because I was with... a guy."

"You were with a guy," repeated the officer, flatly.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, hanging his head. "My, uh, boyfriend."

The officer weighed that up. "You do know that's not illegal in this state, right?"

"Sure," Dean said. "I know. It's just kinda... new for me, is all."

The cop shook his head, chuckling as he locked up the cell and walked away.

"You do realize that's gotta be the lamest damn alibi any suspect's ever given, don't you?"

Dean settled down to wait. Sam would sort things out, at least he damn well hoped so. He leaned back against the cell's bars and closed his eyes. Instantly images of his sexual gymnastics with Sam last night flashed through his mind.

Damn it, if he didn't get out of there soon, Dean was probably going to have to get used to playing the bitch for real.

For some freakin' prison bear!

TBC

* * *

A/N: Oh dear. Dean HAS got himself in a pickle. ;) More soon.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Dean is in the police cells. Sam is not in a good place.

* * *

Love Express (Chapter 8) by frostygossamer

* * *

Two hours later, Sam had been pacing the waiting area of the station house until he was sick with worry. Dean was languishing in the cells and, to his major irritation, Sam hadn't been allowed to see him yet.

"This is totally unacceptable," he told the arresting officer for the twentieth time. "You can't hold the guy here on the word of some visually challenged punk reception clerk. Dean is SO not this woman's lover."

"I think you'll find we CAN," answered the cop. "The motel clerk's statement clearly stated that HE represented HIMSELF as Taylor's associate."

"I very much doubt that," Sam retorted. Although, knowing Dean, he wasn't 100 per cent sure.

Then the news finally came in that the redheaded ex-jewelry store clerk, Missie Taylor, had been picked up over a hundred miles away, in a car driven my her real paramour and accomplice. Dean was going to he released immediately.

Sam collected him at the front desk. Although glad to be free, Dean was anything but OK with his treatment at the hands of the police.

"The County Police Department would like to apologize for any inconvenience you may have incurred," the desk sergeant told Dean in an insincere tone of voice.

"Oh yeah?" Dean retorted, putting his personal property back in his pockets. "Buncha jerks."

The sergeant bristled. Sam jumped in before Dean could say anything more.

"Shut up and let's get outta here," he commanded, dragging Dean outside.

As they got in the SUV, Dean noticed that Sam was not a happy guy.

"Don't know how you do it, Dean," he ranted. "Sent you to do a simple thing like rent a motel room for one night, and you wind up implicated in a jewel theft with some copper-tressed siren straight out of a Sam Spade novel."

"Yeah, I guess I'm one dangerous guy to know," Dean quipped, adjusting an invisible fedora, Bogart-style.

Sam snorted and put the pedal to the metal. They really needed to make up some time.

~X~

An hour down the road, Sam was still a little mad with Dean. Dean wasn't happy about the situation. He needed to change the mood so he switched on the radio.

"-looking for a black unmarked recreational vehicle." The radio was still set to that local news station. "So far there have been no clues as to the whereabouts of the five missing persons."

Dean fiddled with the setting between country, pop, classical and talk. He finally settled on an easy-listening station. Not his own choice but, hey, Sam needed to chill out.

It wasn't such a bad idea. Dean could sense the tension slowly dissolve from Sam's backbone.

"Didn't we see an unmarked black RV yesterday?" Sam asked, idly.

Dean considered, trailing his hand out the open window.

"I guess," he answered. "Tinted windows?"

Sam nodded. At least they were talking. Dean felt relieved.

"You know, I didn't do it deliberately," he began.

Sam remained silent.

"Voluntarily sure, but not deliberately," Dean clarified. "Guy made a mistake, and I went along. It was stupid. You gonna forgive me, Sammy?"

Sam sighed. "Dean, I put you in a spot. I get that. I need to not do that again."

"Wasn't your fault," Dean insisted. "I was a jerk."

Sam turned to look at Dean's unhappy-face and smiled. "It was and you're not."

~X~

They were making good time now, sitting in companionable silence while the golden oldies on the radio reduced their brains to jello. At this rate they might make it to Palo Alto without another overnight stop.

Sam so wanted to get Dean into his own bed. He began to muse on what exactly he would like to do to his lover when he finally got him alone between their mutual sheets. It might involve chocolate sauce. Or maybe his blood sugar was just getting low.

Then "Hey, there's the surfer chicks," Dean remarked cheerfully, spotting the little roadster ahead.

Sam grunted. "Guess we're gonna be travelling in convoy all the way to California," he commented huffily.

Dean grinned. "Maybe we should catch them up. They looked like fun. Could buy them lunch?"

"Oh sure," Sam snarked. "Exactly what we need. Slutty chicks looking to score with a couple single guys."

Dean shot him an amused look. "Not suggesting we screw them, dude," he said. "I CAN be trusted to talk to chicks. OK?"

Sam grumbled to himself. Truth was, he wasn't used to being with a bi guy. But he couldn't go on thinking of EVERYONE as a potential love rival. He was going to have to learn to trust. Dean had never given him any real reason to doubt his faithfulness. Flirting was just his way.

"Sure," he said. "Whatever."

Then, with a growl, it appeared in his mirror and overtook them. The black RV.

"Sam," gasped Dean. "There's that freakin' thing again." Then a thought occurred to him. "Dude, maybe he's tailing those chicks?"

Sam shook his head. Ludicrous thought. Only Dean could come up with an idea like that.

"C'mon, Dean, this is not some movie," he pointed out.

Then again, Dean could be right. The black vehicle did look kind of suspicious. Every time they had seen it, it had been up the chicks' tailpipe. On the other hand, since Dean had already had one run in with the cops that day, maybe they should mind their own business.

"I'm sure it's nothing, man," he insisted.

But he couldn't help wondering if there WAS something fishy about that RV.

~X~

A little further on, Sam noticed that the SUV's gas was getting pretty low. He had meant to get gas that morning, but that had been before he had gotten distracted by Dean's arrest.

"Gonna have to find a gas station soon, " he commented, tapping the display. "Soon be dry."

Having tired of the middle-of-the-road sounds coming from the radio, Dean was now wearing his earbuds and humming along to Led Zeppelin. Sam had to poke him in the arm to get a reaction.

"Wha?" he grunted.

"Need to pull over for gas," Sam reiterated more loudly.

Dean nodded, pulling out his buds.

"Great," he agreed. "Could stretch my legs," uttering little oophs as he shifted in his seat.

A few minutes later, they came to a roadside gas station with a small store. Sam immediately noticed that the roadster was parked outside. No sign of the girls. He decided not to let it bother him this time and pulled up alongside it.

"You fill her up and I'll go in the store," he said, as he got down. "Get us some drinks and snacks, huh?"

Dean was flexing his butt-cheeks and wincing on the other side of the car.

"Sure, boss," he responded, with a cheeky grin.

Sam walked in the station's convenience store. It was a tiny place but apparently well stocked. The sales clerk was busy doing a little shelf stacking, while two of the roadster chicks were giggling together in the candy section. Sam ignored them and began checking out the chips and snack foods. After a couple minutes he had made his selection and moved over to the desk to pay. The clerk sighed and stood up from his restocking, coming over to operate the till.

While the guy was totting up Sam's purchases, Sam added a couple bags of checkout candy to his pile, a peace token for Dean's sweet tooth, and began to count out what he reckoned he probably owed. While he was engrossed in that, the door opened and the third surfer chick joined her friends.

"Hi honey," came a sweet voice from behind him, interrupting his attention. "You the guy from the SUV?"

Sam half turned and found himself facing the roadster girl. She was an athletically built lovely in a skimpy Lycra outfit, not much more than swimwear really, and she had a smile like sunshine. He could almost have gone for a chick like that, that is if he had gone for chicks at all.

"Yeah," he said, attempting a sincere-looking smile. "That's me."

From this angle Sam could see out of the store's window and he noticed, to his dismay, that the sinister RV had turned up and was parked up outside. Perhaps Dean wasn't wrong. Maybe it was shadowing the girls after all?

"We're just waiting for my cuz," the chick said. "Then why don't we-"

But Sam couldn't go on listening to her because, horror of horrors, who should be climbing into the passenger door of that freakin' RV but Dean! The dumb-ass!

Sam ran from the store just too late to catch up with his boyfriend before the RV's door slammed shut. It took off along the highway at an alarmingly high speed. He called Dean's name, but the roar of the RV's engine would have blocked out his voice anyways.

Damn! What the hell was Dean thinking, getting into that van? After they had just been speculating that there could be something ominous about it.

And now HE HAD BEEN ABDUCTED!

Sure, Dean was a fit guy, but the perv could sucker punch him, or use chloroform or something. Not being a chick didn't make him any safer, just more cocksure. Sam jumped straight into his SUV and burned rubber. He was going to catch up with that boyfriend-napping mother.

And END him.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Dean abducted? How did that happen? Dean's POV next time.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Now Dean's POV. What actually WAS he thinking?

* * *

Love Express (Chapter 9) by frostygossamer

* * *

"You fill her up," Dean heard Sam say. Boy, that guy could be bossy sometimes.

"Sure, boss," he responded snarkily.

He watched over the top of the SUV as Sam walked in the gas station's store. Jeez, that guy looked good from the back, all broad shoulders and muscular butt, like an excessively gorgeous gorilla but with all the powerful grace of a big cat. Dean had certainly struck the mother lode with that one. He gave Sam a silent wolf-whistle.

So Dean was charged with filling up the tank? Kind of an elementary task for an automotive genius like himself. He connected the gas pump to the SUV's tank and set about replenishing the water and oil, mentally marking items off of his maintenance checklist. He was just examining the lights and inspecting the tire pressure, when a dark vehicle drew up to the next pump.

Glancing up, Dean realized that it was the menacing rec vehicle they had been talking about.

Dying to know who the hell was in that van, he couldn't help but stare. After a couple seconds, the driver's door slid open and a hand beckoned to him. Glancing over his shoulder at the store, Dean disconnected the gasoline line and walked on over.

"Hi," came a husky voice from within. "I got this weird clunkety-clunk thing going whenever I get over sixty. Take a look?"

The driver had clearly mistaken Dean for an employee, but Dean wasn't above helping a fellow motorist out with his expertise.

"Hey. Don't work here," he told them. "But, you got a problem, I can take a look. Sure."

The driver grinned. "Phew! Thanks a lot. I was starting to worry I wouldn't make it to the ocean."

Dean glanced toward the station store again. Still no sign of Sam. He had a couple minutes to kill.

"OK," he said. "But I gotta hear this weird-ass knocking with my own ears."

"Sure," was the reply. "Hop in and we'll drive around some. No problem."

Barely hesitating a heartbeat, Dean climbed in the RV and slammed the door behind him.

"Alrighty," he said. "Let's hear this sucker in motion."

They pulled out onto the highway and zipped away, unaware that a distraught Sam was calling Dean's name.

~X~

Sam jammed his foot down on the accelerator. The highway was pretty snarled up now and the RV wove expertly through the traffic. Sam was desperate not to lose sight of the black vehicle.

"The bastard's probably already gotten Dean incapacitated. He's been doing this three months. He's gotta have the routine down cold," Sam's mind raced ahead. "Poor sap wouldn't've stood a chance. God knows what the freaker's gonna do to him."

Sam really couldn't believe this was happening. The guy he loved snatched right before his eyes? He was going to catch up with that asshole and rip him a new one. And then he would beat the ever-loving crap out of him. If he had even touched ONE hair on his Dean's perfect head...

But what if he couldn't catch up with the RV? If he lost it in the scrimmage? What if, next time he saw Dean, he was laying dead and cold on some slab? Or maybe Dean would just vanish without a trace, like those other missing hitchers?

No! That was so NOT going to happen.

Not now. Not when he had just found what his heart had been searching for for so long. Someone to give his life meaning. Someone he meant to share his future with. Without Dean, what would be the point of it all?

Suddenly the RV swerved and a space opened up in traffic, Sam's SUV shot ahead into the space and drew up behind his target vehicle. Now all he needed was an opening inside of the sicko and he could force his wagon off of the road onto the shoulder.

The opening appeared. In two seconds the RV was stranded on the shoulder and Sam had swerved in front of it, preventing it from taking off again. He jumped down from the SUV and stormed around to the RV's driver's door, wrenching it open.

He was met with the wide-eyed shocked face of a pissed-off miss.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled.

Sam was taken aback for a second. Dean's abductor was a woman? Did that make sense? But then she was climbing out of the vehicle, beating on his chest and making the air red with her anger.

"The f**k were you thinking? Could've got us all goddamn KILLED. You WANNED to cause a freaking pile-up, you bonehead?"

Sam was bewildered. "I, uh, I thought... Dean! Dean, you in there?"

Dean encouraged the furious woman out of the van onto the highway shoulder and followed her out.

"It's OK, Tamera. OK, Sam," he said, trying to calm the situation down. "We're all fine. No one got hurt."

Sam went to Dean and flung his arms around him, pulling him into a rough bear-hug and pressing his face into the nook of his neck for the longest time. Dean let him because, heck, he felt real nice on him.

"God, Dean," Sam gasped against his lover's skin. "Figured you'd been abducted by the freakin' hitcher-snatcher, man."

Dean chuckled. "Dude, what kind of an ass do you think I am?"

"A jerk-ass, that's what," Sam answered, letting him go. "When I saw your butt disappear into that RV, didn't know what to think, 'cept that you'd lost your freakin' mind."

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Checking out what's under the chick's hood, is all, Sam."

"Checking out her WHAT?" Sam yelped.

"Her engine," Dean translated. "Giving her the benefit of my encyclopedic knowledge of internal combustion. I AM a freakin' car mechanic. Remember?"

Sam exhaled deeply, composing himself. "And you didn't think to tell me first?" he growled.

Dean looked at Tamera. "Guess your cuz didn't pass the update around, huh?"

"Who?!" Sam asked. "The sporty chick that came in the store and hit on me? We didn't exactly shoot the breeze."

"Yep," Dean said. "What I thought."

Sam wandered back to his SUV, shaking his head. Dean called to him as he got in the driver's seat.

"Gonna drive this thing back to the gas station. You got Tamera here all shook up. Gonna pick me up there, huh?"

Dean wouldn't have been surprised if Sam had said no. Somehow he had managed to scare the guy stiff twice in one day. That had to be some record. He couldn't blame the big guy if he was pissed.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Sure," he replied. "Gotta go pick up my billfold anyways."

~X~

Contrary to Sam's doubtful opinion of him, Dean really wasn't the kind of guy who would get in a vehicle with just anyone. He was, however, the kind of guy who had no resistance to a pretty woman in need.

When Dean looked in the RV window and saw that the driver was a woman, he instantly realized that he and Sam had been wrong to imagine the RV was sinister, probably. Would a chick be abducting fit young adults? Yeah, she was wiry but... not likely. She was a girl and she was in trouble. His chivalrous nature got the better of him. Next thing he knew, he was in the passenger seat.

"Hi, I'm Dean," he said, giving her that sexy smile he just couldn't NOT smile whenever he was near a chick. "You are...?"

"Tamera," she replied, returning the smile. "We saw you earlier, and yesterday. You were with another guy?"

"My, uh, buddy Sam," Dean supplied. "You said 'we'?"

Tamera smiled. "My cousin and her two besties. In the roadster? We're going out to the West Coast for the surfing. I got stuck with driving the RV and the boards."

"Oh," mused Dean. "That explains it. Why this RV's always trailing the roadster. You're together," then he asked, "Your friends are not gonna wonder where you've gotten to?"

"Nah," Tamera replied. "My cousin, she saw you get in here, she'll tell the others, and your friend I guess."

"Great," Dean commented.

Jeez, he had forgotten about Sam. The guy was going to get real mad if they didn't get back soon.

"You on vacation? Planning to get to the beach?" she asked with a grin. "Pick up a couple chicas Californianas?"

Dean chuckled and looked out the window for a moment. His instinct was to lie, but, hell, if he couldn't be open with a stranger, how was he ever going to face Sam's friends?

"No, not looking to score, Tamera," he said. "Me and Sam are an item. We're moving to a new place in Palo Alto. Sam has a professorship at Stanford."

"Oh, fancy," she said. "Sorry, I didn't pick up on that."

"Yeah, well, we haven't been together long," he explained. "He's my first boyfriend."

"Really?" Tamera remarked. "Kinda surprised. You look like a guy who'd be beating them off with a proverbial stick."

Dean chuckled. "When I say he's my first boyfriend, he's not my first ever partner. I've had relationships before, always with women. This is new, and I really wanna make a go of it. Sam's something real special. But I seem to screw up around him all the damn time, and I guess sometimes he thinks I'm just dicking around with him."

Tamera laughed. "If the guy loves you he'll forgive you. If not... pfft!"

"It's the 'pfft' I'm afraid off," Dean commented.

Then suddenly the SUV was on the inside of them, crowding them toward the shoulder.

"What is that guy's beef?" Tamera demanded, struggling to stay on the road.

Dean glanced out the window and, realizing it was Sam's SUV, he grabbed the steering wheel and guided the RV to a stop on the shoulder.

"Hey," complained Tamera. "Whadidya do that for?"

"Cos the stupid-ass in the SUV is Sam, and I didn't want any of us to wind up dead," he growled.

Somehow Dean guessed Tamera's cousin hadn't clued Sam in.

~X~

Dean stepped out of the RV back at the gas station. Sam was leaning against the SUV, arms folded, face like it had been carved out of stone.

Smiling nervously, "Look, Sam," he began. "I was only tryna help-"

Sam's glare shut him up. "Get in the car," he commanded and Dean complied meekly, rolling his eyes behind the big guy's back.

He was SO in the doghouse.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Sam has good reason to be mad. Next chapter will probably be the last, for now.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: The (longer) final chapter for this story...

* * *

Love Express (Chapter 10) by frostygossamer

* * *

There was silence in the SUV for several long miles after they finally pulled away from that gas station. Unfortunately the silence couldn't last.

"Is it something you do on purpose?" Sam began in a grouchy tone. "Or do you just naturally attract trouble like some kinduva hassle-magnet?"

Dean exhaled slowly, deciding that saying nothing was probably the best option.

"First you get your ass arrested, then you make me think you've gotten yourself abducted. Is that it? Are we done for the day?"

Dean realized he was going to have to say something.

"Sam, I know I messed up," he said. "I apologized. What more can I do?"

Sam snorted. "Reckon what we oughta do is shut up and drive, and see if we can't get to our destination before anything else freakish happens. OK?"

Dean nodded. "Sure," he said, and settled down to pretend to get some sleep.

Sam drove on through the afternoon, evening and twilight. When they got into the outskirts of Palo Alto, it was already dark. Dean was woken from his doze by the more random movements of the SUV through residential streets.

"We there?" he asked, stretching.

"Yep," Sam replied, sounding perfectly normal.

Dean hoped the guy had gotten over his mad ranting phase. He fished a street plan out of the glovebox and, spotting a street sign go by, located them on the map.

"Third turn on the left and then second right," he said.

A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of the entrance to a small gated community.

"Guess we're home," Dean remarked.

Sam smiled at him. He actually smiled. "Home," he repeated.

~X~

Sam honked the ute's horn, expecting some response from the little security booth next to the gate. Getting no immediate answer, he got out and walked over to the gate.

"Hey," he shouted. "Anyone on duty?"

His Faculty Head and ex-partner, Dave Mann, was supposed to have organized this. Someone was supposed to be expecting them.

"Wait just a minute," came a gruff voice from behind the booth and a tubby young guy in uniform emerged, holding a half-eaten slab of pizza. "What's your hurry?"

Sam rolled his eyes heavenward. "We're moving in today," he said. "Name of Winchester?"

"That right?" the gatekeeper muttered as he waddled into his booth. "Then you'll be on my roster."

The guy put down his pizza, unhooked a clipboard from a nail on the booth's wall and studied it.

"Humph," he grunted. "No 'Winchester' down here."

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "This was all supposed to be prearranged," he insisted.

The guy waved the clipboard at him. "No 'Winchester'," he repeated.

"Got ANYONE down for moving in today?" Dean asked, climbing out of the SUV. "Someone mixed up the names maybe?"

The guy looked at his list again. "Maybe," he admitted, guardedly. "But that don't mean it's YOU."

Dean shrugged. The guard didn't seem to want to be helpful.

Sam tried another tack. "The let was arranged by my boss, Professor David Mann. You wanna ring him and clear this up?"

The guy gave him a wary look. "That name don't ring no bells either," he said.

"Ring him," Sam insisted.

The guard huffed and picked up his local phone book. Leafing through it slowly he located Sam's ex's number and dialled it with deliberation.

"Hi," he began, "This is gate security at the California Beauty gated community on Sassafras Street. I have a query about a new arrival?"

There was a pause while he listened to the other end of the line.

"He wants me to describe you," he told Sam, after a minute.

Sam moved a little closer so the guard could see him better. The guy looked him up and down.

"Close on seven feet, built like Sulley, long floppy hair like Mufasa," he said. "And kinda touchy," he added when Sam shot him a glare.

He held the receiver away from his ear to minimize the answering bellow. Sam chuckled. That was SO Dave.

After a minute, the guard put down his phone. "Guess it's OK," he begrudged. "Wanna get back in your vehicle? I'll unlock the gates."

Sam and Dean got back in the SUV while the guy operated the electronic gate mechanism. Then, as they rolled onto private property, he had the cheek to salute them.

"That's one guy who better not expect a Christmas gift from me this year," commented Sam.

~X~

Their new home was a bijou two-storey affair at the east end of the estate. Sam parked the ute outside, and they got out and surveyed the front prospect.

"Looks OK," Sam ventured.

Dean nodded. "Stayed in a lot worse," he commented.

Sam took the envelope containing the house keys out of the SUV's glove compartment, and made to unlock the front door. Dean walked up to him and put his hand on Sam's.

"First place together" he said, meaningfully.

Sam grinned and they turned the key together, opening the door onto a tastefully decorated hall.

"Looks great," Dean approved, checking out the hall and a couple reception rooms, "Only, gotta find the john. Long drive, huh?" and he disappeared up the stairs to search out the bathroom.

Sam walked through to the kitchen, a well-appointed installation that reminded him of the studio kitchens you see on TV cookery shows.

"Nice," he remarked to himself.

~X~

Sam looked in the refrigerator. Fresh eggs, ham, mushrooms, maybe he should make an omelet? It was a while since they had eaten. He rummaged around in the cabinets for a suitable pan.

"Hey! Sam!" came a call from upstairs.

Sam put down the frypan and went to the bottom of the stairs.

"Problem?" he asked.

"Problem? No. But you gotta come see this," Dean answered.

Sam walked up the stairs, where he found a trail of Dean's hastily discarded clothing, leading to what was apparently the bathroom door. He turned the knob and peeked in. Dean was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a childishly gleeful grin.

"Dude, it's a wet room," he announced. "No cubicle, no curtain, no nothing. You just stand right here and get wet," and he demonstrated by turning on the ceiling-mounted shower head and letting the hot water pour all over his naked body. "See?"

Oh yeah, Sam could see all right. In two seconds his clothes had joined Dean's, and he was grabbing the guy under that steaming waterfall.

"Hey, Sam, you tryna Shawshank me in here?" Dean protested, taken by surprise.

Sam pulled Dean against his body and kissed him forcefully. "You objecting?" he asked.

Dean chuckled. "Hell no. Only, not sure we got the energy. Dunno 'bout you, but I'm a little beat for bumming right now."

Sam loosened his hold on the shorter guy and pouted. "Don't wanna christen the facilities, huh?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Dean answered, with a grin. "Tonight what I want is a shower and something to eat then bed. To sleep. Sorry, Sammy."

Sam let him go reluctantly. "OK," he said. "But you gotta help me out with this first," glancing down at the impressive edifice he was sporting.

Dean snickered. "Now THAT I can help you with," he said, grabbing the shower gel. "Gonna lather you up and get you real clean, you dirty f**ker."

"Like the way you think," responded Sam.

Dean poured the gel over Sam's strong shoulders, making it dribble down over his back and chest. Reaching around, he smeared the fresh-smelling man-fragranced goo over Sam's broad back, while the slick slurping down his chest smudged between them. Grabbing the bottle from him, Sam blobbed a dollop in his palm and used it to anoint the firm round globes of Dean's butt.

Pretty soon they were covered all over in a slippery froth, their bodies sliding easily together. Dean combed a little gel into Sam's hair with his fingers, smoothing the wet locks back from his manly face as he placed his hands on Sam's ears and pulled him down into a kiss. He squeezed his eyes tight shut as the warm soothing spray rinsed the foam down over both their faces, pooling foam at their feet, where it disappeared down the central drain.

Dean wrapped a firm fist around Sam's little problem and gently relieved him of his predicament with long easy strokes, making him moan softly against Dean's shoulder as he let go. Feeling lucky, Sam chanced his thumb between Dean's ass-cheeks, teasing his little hole, but Dean batted him away.

"Nah-ah-ah," he scolded. "Not yet, tiger. Wait till we get in bed, then maybe..."

Sam responded by reaching up and redirecting the nozzle directly onto Dean's head, swamping him. Then he generously leaned in to prevent him drowning by giving him the kiss of life, sharing his oxygen with the gasping flounder. Dean shoved him away playfully, grabbing a large towel from the glass cabinet and walloping him with it. Sam grabbed the end of the towel and pulled Dean back toward him, grasping him by the waist.

"C'mon. Let's get dry," Dean begged. "Dude, I need food. Right now. Or I'm gonna slip down that freakin' drain."

Sam guffawed. "Don't worry, man. You won't go down. Your big damn head'll get stuck."

He unfurled the huge towel and wrapped it around them both, rubbing over Dean's back and butt.

"Gonna make you the best damn omelet you ever tasted," he promised.

~X~

They were sitting in their new kitchen, stuffing in big forkfuls of fluffy omelet, created with love by Sam.

"So. This David Mann guy, you and he used to be a couple, right?" Dean probed.

Sam nodded. "Dave was one of my professors. My mentor, you could say. We hit it off. After I graduated, I moved in."

Dean gave that a moment's thought. Dave had been Sam's 'husband'. Now Sam was his, kind of. What did that make him? Did it even work that way? He was still pretty naive about gay lifestyles.

"And now he's the head of your department, your boss?" he asked.

"Head of Faculty, yes," Sam agreed. "That promotion was the start of the end for us."

"Hmm," Dean responded, growing thoughtful. "So. It's definitely over? Between you two?"

Sam had to smile. Was Dean feeling a little jealous?

"Over like yesterday's news," he answered firmly.

"Good," Dean responded. "Cos I want 'Sam and Dean' to be an expression, like 'Batman and Robin', 'Butch and Sundance'..."

"You mean like 'Bonnie and Clyde', 'Harry and Sally', 'Rocky and Adrian'," Sam corrected him.

Dean snorted. "Like two guys," he grouched. "Like a freakin' team. Right down the line."

Sam nodded. "Me too," he agreed. "I don't do hook-ups or one-nighters or summer flings. I do love or nothing, and I don't wanna get hurt again. But, dude, you're gonna have to get your act together, if you wanna be my team-mate."

Dean raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Because right now," Sam continued, "you're still acting like you're on your own, a free agent with no one else to think about. And that's not true anymore. Gotta stop running off without a word or pretending we're not together. Got me now, and you gotta remember that if you're serious about us."

Dean sighed. "Damn right I'm serious," he insisted. "Really want this to work, Sammy. You know I'm still kinda green with this 'gay' thing, but I WANT this. Swapped sides for this gig. Wouldn't have done that if I wasn't damn sure I NEEDED to be with you."

Sam was touched. He reached for Dean's hand.

"You know, I don't let just anyone call me 'Sammy'. Not even Dave got away with that," he said. "But somehow, from your mouth, baby, it sounds so right."

Dean chuckled. "That's because it IS right," he said, leaning across to kiss Sam on the lips. "C'mon. Bed."

~X~

They piled into the big king-sized bed in the master bedroom. They were both feeling amazed that they were finally there, in their new home, and in one piece. Tomorrow they were going to begin a life together.

Dean settled in the middle of the bed and pulled Sam closer so he was laying on his back, propped up on Dean's chest. Sam closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, comfortable in the arms of his lover. Dean raked his fingers through Sam's long hair soothingly.

"Mmm," Sam murmured.

"You still wanna get frisky?" Dean asked lazily.

"Nah," Sam replied. "I'm good. Got the rest of our lives, baby."

That was a beautiful thought. They had the rest of their lives to love, and be loved by, each other. It was a thought that Dean ruminated on.

After a while, as they lay together in the drowsy dark, Dean broke the silence with a confession. Not an easy thing for Dean, but he sensed this was the right time to open up, as much as he was able.

"You know, the reason me and Jo broke up wasn't because I cheated on her," he said. "Not that I didn't cheat on her, kinda. It was because she'd had enough of me not being up-front, keeping crap to myself. Hoarding my secrets, she called it."

Sam turned his face toward him and smiled in the darkness. "Know what she meant," he whispered.

Dean pressed on, "Know I got this problem. Turn inward when things get tough, get closed off."

Sam reached across and took Dean's hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Yep," he agreed.

Dean sighed. "Get that from my dad. After we lost Mom, he just kinda sucked it all inside like some kinda giant black hole for emotions. Guess he expected me to be the same way."

Sam had already heard a little about John, and he really felt for him.

"You had it rough, baby," he sympathized.

Dean shook his head. "But I DO get it. And I'm not gonna make that same mistake again. Gonna try, Sammy, try my best to share. Because I... couldn't bear to lose you. Gotta help me."

Sam rolled over and pulled Dean into a hug, cradling him close.

"Baby," he said. "We're in this together. Bad times are over. Good times from now on."

And somehow he knew they would be.

The End

* * *

A/N: That ends the second part of the trilogy. Yes, I'm going to make it a trilogy. I'm thinking I want to know how Dean settles into a college campus life. So keep your eyes open.


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